Hermione's Desperation
by wizardintraining8720
Summary: When Hermione's parents are killed, she begins to sprial out of control, becoming more and more depressed. Will her desperation eventually ruin her life, and if it does will she ever become sane again? Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine… unfortunately.   
Chapter 1 

Hermione stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself. She was no longer the strikingly beautiful witch she had once been, she no longer had flowing brownish golden hair. She no longer had bright copper colored eyes, filled with a thirst to learn. She had become an empty shell. He had cut her hair very short, she was loosing weight rapidly, she had bags under her eyes due to lack of sleep, she was pale and skinny, and she looked a mess. Where she had emotions and feelings, there was now a dark void of emptiness.

Hermione had had the worst summer of all time. Voldemort had risen again in the last year and he had come after her parents. Worst of all is the fact that he succeeded. He had tortured and killed her parents right before her eyes and she wasn't able to do anything about it. She lost the most important thing in her life and she no longer cared about anything. She didn't care about school, her grades, how many O.W.L.s she received, or whether or not she would ever amount to anything in her life. She didn't care if she was no longer the best student in her grade. She lost interest in anything that would have concerned her before, and she was steadily getting worse.

Ever since her parents were killed, Hermione was living in a muggle orphanage. She had no family left and no one that cared for her. She wasn't even sure if Harry and Ron would remain her friends during school because of her depressed state.

As she looked into the mirror, her sad reflection stared back. She knew she looked different; she knew her reflection was in a sickly state and she should get help soon, but her knowing this didn't motivate her any more. She was consumed by what happened and it slowly ate away at her sanity.

Going back to her bed and sitting down, Hermione looked around the room she was in. There were beds upon beds of sleeping children from the age of 5 to the age of 17. There were about 30 children in that one room sleeping all at once and Hermione was the only one awake. She was dressed in rages, trying to save the rest of her money for when she left school. She had to sacrifice. It wasn't going to be easy, but it must be done.

It was the last day of the holidays and she would be starting school soon, but she wasn't the same Hermione, the little miss know it all; she was instead hollow soul. She was dreading going back. She didn't want to see her friends, afraid of how they were going to treat her now. Would they pity her, because pity was the last thing she wanted. Would they shun her, when she needed them the most, when they were all she had left?

The night eventually blended into morning, and it was time to start getting ready for her first day back at school, her first day back with her friends, and her first day back into the world she was most comfortable in and most used to.

Hermione got up and dressed. He decided to wear something that was normal to her, instead of the rags she had on all summer. The rags were appropriate because of how much she was forced to clean in the orphanage, but she didn't want anyone to see her in the rags on the way back to school, especially Malfoy. She didn't want to give him more reasons to tease her any more than he already did.

She soon went downstairs into the mess hall of the orphanage and ate a tiny breakfast so there would enough to go around for all of the orphans. She wasn't very hungry though, so this didn't bother her much. Her mind these days were far from how much she got to eat.

Hermione would have to take the bus to the train station, so she decided to leave extra early to get there on time. She gathered all of her belongings in her truck along with her wand and spell books, although they were locked in there all summer because of how she was obligated to keep her wizardry a secret. Walking out the door, she never looked back. As far as she was concerned, she didn't ever want to come back there. She would turn 18 soon, and she would be forced to live on her own. This thought scared her, but it was much better than being forced to live in an orphanage where you can only get food once a day and you can only take a shower twice a week. Where disease and illness spread throughout the building like a wildfire and nothing can prevent it.

Hermione arrived at King's Cross Train Station early, trying to avoid all other her old friends. She soon searched for an empty compartment and found one at the back of the train. Shutting the down, she plopped down on the seat and began to cry. She was finally alone for the first time in nearly a month and being alone brought back the memories of her parent's death. Why had she let it happen? She just stood there, rooted to the spot, while a death eater yelled 'Avada Kedavra'. She hadn't done anything. She just froze. Guilt weighed heavily on her heart and the tears never stopped pouring down. She was looking out he window, but her mind wasn't taking in anything that she was seeing. She had a glazed over look in her eyes and her subconscious was far away. She was only pulled back into reality when she heard the compartment door slide open and heard some familiar voices. Quickly drying her eyes, she looked up to see who had just walked in, although she had a good idea who it was.

"Hi Hermione!" Harry said brightly. "You cut your hair, it… err… looks… nice."

She didn't say anything. Instead, she gave a feeble smile and turned back to the window.

Noticing her depressed state, Harry attempted to find out what was wrong, but it came up useless. Hermione didn't answer and continued staring out the window, tears, once again, streaming down her somber face.

"Hermione, do you want to talk? What's wrong? Please just talk to us." Ron asked, hoping that he would at least get some form of reply. When he got none, he turned to Harry and shrugged. They continued talking, while taking quick glances over at Hermione to see if her demeanor had changed at all.

Hermione, trying to keep it all inside her, could no longer hold the pain she felt. She just exploded as if she was a balloon constantly fed more and more air until it popped.

"YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENED TO ME THIS SUMMER?" She yelled, surprised they didn't know.

Harry and Ron jumped a foot in the air at the sudden sound of Hermione's voice. "No, we have no idea. What happened? You can tell us about it."

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU HAVE BEEN IN THE DARK ABOUT EVERYTHING, WHILE I'VE BEEN CRYING MYSELF TO SLEEP ALMOST EVERY NIGHT."

As soon as she said this, they suddenly realized how much she had changed. She was no longer the slim, pretty girl that she was last year. They had noticed how skinny she looked, how pale she was, and the amount of bags under here eyes. "Hermione, are you ok?" Ron said, starting to get concerned for his friend.

With this question, she got up and stormed out of the train compartment in search of another one where she could wallow in her own problems for a while. She quickly found an empty compartment and let her sadness engulf her. She wanted to be like her own self, she really did. But she would never be the same.

At the beginning of the summer Hermione had found out that she was now the Head Girl, but that thought was far from her mind now. In fact she had forgotten all about it when her parents were killed. As she sat in the compartment thinking about her miseries, she slowly fell into a restless sleep.

"_Step aside you little mudblood while we kill your parents. I always thought this world would be such a better place if we eliminated all of the muggles!"_

"_No!" Hermione screamed, but she was almost inaudible. There was a large, fleshy hand clamped across her mouth almost stifling her to death. She had to take large gasping breaths every few seconds to be able to breath. Her capturer clearly didn't want her to die, but he thought it would be fun to make her watch her parent dies._

"_Avada Kedavra!" _

Hermione woke up in a cold sweat with hands on her shoulders. They had been gently shaking her awake. She looked up into the face of her best friend, Harry with Ron beside him. "Hermione you were screaming. We came looking for you after you left and we found you right after you had started to scream." He looked extremely worried and Ron looked pale.

Hermione simply nodded.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." She said shoving them off. "I just want to be alone."

"Ok, but we'll be at Hogwarts soon, you might want to change into your robes." They left after, leaving Hermione alone as she wished.

The train soon pulled into the Hogwarts station and Hermione got off, hoping to avoid Harry and Ron if possible. She quickly climbed into an empty carriage as she waited for it to begin its journey to the school. Once in the Great Hall, she sat on the opposite end of the table by herself. Loneliness was the only thing she knew at the moment. Even with being in an overcrowded crowded orphanage, she had experienced some of the loneliest times in her entire life.

A/N: Hey, this is my second story, but I think its going pretty well so far. I have a couple of chapters written but I'm not too sure where, generally, I'm going to take this story. So feel free to give me good hints… but eventually it will be Hermione/ Draco


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine, unfortunately… 

A/N: Hey everyone, thanks to all that reviewed. There weren't many, but there were still a few reviews. Umm, this chapter has some slightly graphic content as well as some attempted suicide content stuff. Read at your own discretion.

Chapter 2 

Hermione sat through the sorting ceremony, only paying half attention to what was happening. She let her mind wander during Dumbledore's speech of the general rules of Hogwarts, at least up until she heard her name and Draco Malfoy's name in the same sentence. Snapping back to reality, she soon remembered that she was the new head girl and that Malfoy was the new head boy. They would be sharing a common room together for the rest of the year. At least she was able to get away from Harry and Ron's concern for her, but she still had to deal with Malfoy and his endless taunts. It was amazing how he never tired from teasing Hermione, Harry, or Ron.

Not touching her food at all, Hermione sat staring at her plate all throughout dinner. The only time she talked was when Ginny came to sit by her and talk since they hadn't seen each other on the train.

"Hey Hermione, how was your summer?" Ginny asked without realizing how much of a horrible summer Hermione had.

Hermione never answered. Instead tears started flowing down her face as the thought of the summer opened up in her mind.

"Oh Hermione, Harry and Ron are really worried about you. They said that you yelled at them on the train. What's wrong? What happened? I'll listen; you can always count on me, Hermione, when you want to talk. Just know that, ok?"

Hermione simply nodded, not looking up from her plate. She knew she could tell Ginny what happened, but it was still to soon to talk about it. She wasn't sure when she would be ready, but she would have to do it eventually.

At the end of dinner, Hermione was ushered by Dumbledore to her new common room and dorm room that she would share with Malfoy. As she entered, she took in the new surroundings. It was exquisite in the room. The walls were adorned with many paintings; the wall color was decorated with the colors of Gryffindor and Slytherin houses. There were two desks an either side of the room with many large bookcases surrounding them. There was a very large couch in the center on the room with two armchairs facing the couch and a coffee table in the middle. The most striking feature was the large fireplace that was brightening up the whole room. The room was beautiful, but it made Hermione even more depressed. It made her remember the pathetic conditions she was living in when she was at the orphanage.

Checking out her bedroom, it wasn't much different. It was still very superb. There was a large mahogany, four-poster bed with a beautiful white comforter. All of the other furniture was mahogany. The bathroom was gorgeous. Everything was marble with many different tabs to push, getting out a different substance every time.

Although the room was beautiful it made Hermione feel colder inside. She wanted to curl up in her bed and cry herself to sleep, or even better, cry until she died. No amount of crying ever made her feel better; it just made her feel hollow inside. Instead, she decided to go down into the common room. Staring into the fire was always comforting to her; it was a way to forget her problems.

"This is a nice place we got here, Granger. Although it'll never be as good as home."

Hermione never answered, instead she sat down on the couch and curled up into a little ball, tears stinging painfully in her eyes, willing themselves to come out.

"What the bloody hell happened to you… and your hair?"

Still he received no answer. Hermione continued to rock back and forth.

Malfoy, freaking out about the present state of Hermione, walked over to her and shook her. She didn't even respond from the shake. Normally she would have yelled at him for touching her, but she was so empty inside, she didn't even feel Malfoy, let alone see him. Her eyes glazed over and she went into a sort of trance like state.

Malfoy decided to leave her like that and went upstairs to his bedroom to get some sleep.

Hermione finally coming out of her trance as she heard Malfoy's door close, ran up into her room and searched through her trunk for something. She was not allowed to keep this in the orphanage, so she hid it in her trunk. It had, somehow, come as a slight comfort for her to have. Hermione soon found what she was looking for, taking out a knife that had a long, sharp blade. She entered the bathroom that her and Malfoy shared and sat on the toilet. Closing her eyes she took the blade in her right hand and ran it over her left wrist, feeling absolutely nothing. She opened her eyes to see a shallow cut on her wrist. The amount of blood pouring out surprised her. It even scared her, but it comforted her. She soon closed her eyes, feeling the life being drained out of her. The warm blooded continued to poor down her arm and onto her lap. She then slipped out of consciousness and passed out on the floor.

Malfoy, wanting to use the toilet, walked over to his side of the bathroom. He noticed there was a light on inside so he knocked. "Almost done in there, Granger?"

When he heard no answer, he knocked again, but yet still received none. He slightly opened the door and peered around until he spotted the unconscious Hermione on the floor with a gash on her wrist and the floor covered in blood with the knife beside her. Rushing over to her, he tried waking her up, but she didn't respond. He assumed it was due to the amount of blood she had lost already. Afraid she was going to die, he scooped her up and rushed to the Hospital Wing, shouting at students the get out of the way as he ran.

A/N: Yeah, so that's the graphic stuff. I hope you weren't offended by it but its really essential to the plot. Don't forget to review.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm so sorry about the delay, but I didn't want to post chapter 3 until I had chapter 4 done. See, I like to make sure I have at least one chapter after the posted chapter done. It's just a weird necessity of mine. And now I have finally finished chapter 4 so I can post chapter 3… Well, I hope you enjoy the next chapter and I hope it was worth the wait. 

Chapter 3 

"Is she going to be ok?"

"She'll be fine. She lost a lot of blood but it's a good thing you found her in time. You practically saved her life."

"I don't know why she would do something like this too herself."

"We'll never know, Mr. Malfoy, I don't think we'll ever know."

Hermione could hear strange voices around her, but nothing made sense. Where was she and who did these voices belong to? Hermione opened her eyes, but shut them quickly, trying to block out the bright sun light.

"What's going on?" She said, attempting to open her eyes again. "Where am I?"

Hermione quickly looked around the room to see if she recognized anything or anyone. Immediately she recognized the hospital wing with the rows and rows of beds for sick students. As soon as she recognized her surroundings, all of the past events came rushing back into her memory. Her parents dying, her creaming at Harry and Ron, her slitting her wrist; it all came flowing back to her subconscious like a dam removed.

"What happened?" she screamed. "Who brought me here?"

Suddenly realizing Hermione was awake, Madame Pomfrey and Malfoy came rushing over to her bed.

"You gave me a fright, young lady. How did you manage to do that to yourself? You're lucky Mr. Malfoy found you in time."

Malfoy just looked at her with pity in his eyes unable to say anything. Nothing he could say felt right at this particular moment.

"Err… it was an accident." Hermione lied. "I didn't mean to do it. I was fiddling with the knife and I accidentally dropped it on my wrist."

Malfoy knew she was lying, but why he chose to say anything against this was beyond anything he understood. He just stood there unable to rationalize why anyone would try to kill themselves, especially Hermione Granger, Miss Know-It-All. He stood there staring into her brown eyes, unable to think of anything to say.

"Well, you should be thanking Mr. Malfoy for finding you before it became too late."

"Er, yeah. Thanks Malfoy. Umm, if you hadn't helped me I would have been dead." _Yeah, thanks a lot Malfoy, _Hermione thought sarcastically,_ I actually wanted to be dead. Maybe then I would have been finally happy_.

"Er, no problem Granger." Malfoy replied. He knew what she said wasn't the truth. He knew that she purposefully slit her wrist. He knew she wanted to die, but he just didn't know why.

"Hermione, are you ready to leave the hospital wing?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

"Err… yeah I think so. What about my wrist?"

Your wound has healed but I'm afraid there will still be a scar."

Hermione looked down onto her left wrist and sure enough there was a dark scar going right across the wrist. _Great. Now I have this huge scar. Everyone will know that I cut my wrist. _Looking back up, she noticed Malfoy's eyes lingering of hers but as soon as she caught him, he looked away.

"Thanks for everything Madame Pomfrey. I think I can go now. I'll be fine."

"Oh that's good. Mr. Malfoy, can you please escort Ms. Granger back to your head rooms?"

"Sure, Madame Pomfrey."

Hermione slowly got up from her bed and stepped on the cold marble floor. The coldness gave her immediate chills up and down her spine as she tried to stand up on her own. Having not walked in what felt like an eternity, her knees felt they were going to give way, but Malfoy rushed over to the side of her bed and helped her steady herself. Hermione, surprised at Malfoy's kind gesture, just stared up in his face astounded.

"Er... thanks." she managed to get out, feeling slightly awkward that he was helping her.

"Yeah, no problem." he mumbled.

"Oh and Hermione," Madame Pomfrey called back to her as she walked out. "Do be careful, dear. Playing with knives isn't a wise thing to do."

Hermione just smiled as she walked out of the Hospital Wing with Malfoy beside her, supporting her.

Walking down the corridor with Malfoy got Hermione some odd glances from younger students. They walked in silence, unable to think of anything to say to each other. Finally, Malfoy, tired of the awkward silence, chose to get some of his questions answered.

"Ok Granger, you can put down the façade. Why did you do that to yourself? Did you really intend to kill yourself."

Hermione, taken aback from Malfoy's straight forwardness just stared at him in disbelieve. Finally finding her tongue, she blurted out. "Malfoy, it's really none of your business what I do to myself behind closed doors."

"Granger, if you are trying to kill yourself, I really think you should get some professional help. We never know if you plan to do it again, and if you do, I probably wont be there to save you."

"Who even said I wanted to be saved, Malfoy. As far as I'm concerned, you should have left me there on the floor in the bathroom." Tears had stared to well up in her eyes as she remembered what happened to her parents and when blinking them back had become unsuccessful, they began to flow tirelessly down her pale face.

Seeing the tears come out her eyes, Malfoy suddenly stopped in the hallway. Unsure if he should comfort her, or let her cry herself dry. He chose the former, knowing it might be awkward but it was the only thing that he thought was right at the moment. He wrapped his warm arms around Hermione, bringing her close to his body. She could feel his body heat radiating off onto her, and his smell, like a musty, but expensive cologne. It felt good in his arms. She needed comfort and she found it within Malfoy.

"Granger, promise me you won't do that ever again. Promise me you won't hurt yourself, because I was terrified."

"Malfoy, I can't promise anything. I wish I could stand before you and proclaim that I would never slit my wrist again or that I will never attempt to commit suicide, but I know I would be lying to you. I can't promise to never do it again, because there is too great a chance that I would do it again."

Malfoy just looked at her while she said this. It all didn't make any sense. Why was Hermione acting like this? Why had she so drastically changed? Something must have happened to Hermione this summer, but he hadn't the slightest idea what it could be, but whatever it was, it must have been big, big enough to complete change Hermione and her personality.

A/N: I'll try to update faster next time, but if I don't get around to it, bear with me, because I plan to eventually. And I do plan to make this Hermione/Draco eventually, but I'm not sure how fast I can get there without rushing the story too fast, so just a heads up that I still want to make this into an angst romance story.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

A/N: So sorry that its been over a month that I last updated this story, but I've been having computer problems… major ones. In fact my parents plan to buy a new one soon so that's good, but until then I'm going to have to put this story on hold for a while. It might be a month or two, I really don't know for sure. I hope this chapter makes up for my long absence.

"Harry, we need to talk." Hermione said as she approached Harry and Ron. She had been avoiding them all week for how she acted on the train ride to Hogwarts, and now she realized that she wanted to apologize and clear the air. She truly wanted her friends back.

"Err.. yeah Hermione. What's wrong?" Harry asked, concerned if she was going to blow up on them again.

"I.. err.. just wanted to apologize for how I acted on the train. It was really uncalled for and I was just…"

"Hermione, its ok. We understand that you didn't mean to, but Ron and I have been concerned about you all week. What happened this summer that caused you to change so drastically? You're not the same Hermione anymore."

"Harry, I don't know if I'm ready to talk about what happened. I don't want to relive it." Just thinking about it caused Hermione's eyes to well up with tears. Blinking didn't work and soon they began to cascade down her pale, hollow face. Seeing the tears, Harry and Ron rushed over to her side and began to hug her and pat her on the back.

"Hermione, please don't cry. Tell us what happened." Ron pleaded with her. He thought her finally talking about what had happened would eventually start to heal the deep emotional wounds, and so he continued to encourage her to continue.

"Well, it all started when several death eaters barged in my house and tied me and my family up." Hermione had to take several deep breaths just to continue, but there was nothing she could do to steam the stream of tears pouring out her red, swollen eyes. "They made me watch them torture and eventually kill my parents. It was the most horrible thing I have ever seen. I..I..I've been living in an orphanage ever since my parents were killed."

"Oh, Hermione. Why didn't you tell us?" Harry blurted out. Sympathy for Hermione was coursing through his veins, but still he couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal that she never went to him and told him. Hermione was one of his best friends and the fact that she didn't tell Harry or Ron was hurting Harry more than he would have liked it to.

"I think I was in a state of utter disbelief. I just couldn't swallow what had happened. Even now, I still feel like I have a place to go to during vacations and when school is over. The reality hasn't set in yet and I don't think it ever will."

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. I feel like this is my fault."

"Why? It wasn't your fault that the death eaters came to my house that night. It wasn't your fault that they t…tortured and killed my parents right before my eyes. Harry, it was anything but your fault and you shouldn't blame yourself for other people's actions."

"Don't you get it Hermione, if I wasn't friends with you, there would have been no reason for death eaters to come to your house. It is my fault." Harry felt horrible for what happened to Hermione and nothing she said was going to ease his guilt.

"Harry, believe me when I say this. I cherish our friendship more than anything. You were not the reason that death eaters came to my house. Don't blame yourself for something that wasn't even your fault." Hermione suddenly regretted telling Harry about her parents' death. She knew he wouldn't take it so easily, but she never guessed he would start blaming himself for what happened to her parents.

"Hermione, does Dumbledore know about your parents?" Ron suddenly asked after remaining silent for a couple of minutes.

"I don't think he knows, but I don't want him to know."

"Why?"

"The last thing I want is more pity and I'm sure Dumbledore would give me nothing but pity. Plus what can he do? He's too busy trying to keep the students save at Hogwarts I don't want to burden him with another bit of information about what Voldemort's death eaters have done."

As Hermione said this, Ron suddenly realized how Hermione had changed, not in her appearance, but in her reasoning. When something had happened to Harry in the past, such as his scar hurting or a bad dream about Voldemort, Hermione would have been the first person to tell Harry that he should go to Dumbledore and tell him. Now Hermione's insistence not to tell Dumbledore was something Ron was not used to and it scared him greatly. Her parents' death had caused great changes in her personality and attitude but what worried them the most was would Hermione ever be like she was before?

Hermione had finally let her secret out. The secret that had been consuming her life and sanity before was out and her friends knew about it. She thought she would have felt better after she released such a huge weight in her well of emotions, but reliving what happened only made her feel even more depressed and more alone. Around Harry and Ron she was a completely different person, she was cheerful and happy. She even looked as though she was getting over her parents death. But by herself, her depressive state overpowered all other emotions. Unfortunately, she didn't try to hide her sadness when she was around Malfoy, and this caused him to worry about her well being even more.

Hermione's state of well-being soon became all that Malfoy could think of. It wasn't that he liked her, nor was it that he was remotely cared about her, it was the fact that he actually knew what she was going through. Every glance he passed her way, he was brutally reminded of the terror and hardships he faced from his father. He was reminded of the countless times he looked at his wrists and wished to take a sharp, long, metal blade and just slit it until he felt nothing more; until his life was nothing. He would stare at his plump veins just below his skin's surface and wander what it would be like to feel the warm, shockingly red blood flow endlessly down his pale arm. But with his constant thoughts of taking the easy way out, he was reminded that he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys never took the easy way out. He would have to stick it out like any other person in his family and endure the pain his father put him through. His father was testing him, and he mustn't fail.

Hermione soon noticed Malfoy's constant glances and stares. It soon became unbearable and after getting back to the head common room they both share, on one of Hermione's miserable days, she decided to confront him about it.

"Malfoy, is there a reason why you are staring at me during class? If you have a fascination with me you should just come out and say it."

"I haven't been staring at you." He replied. "And I don't have a fascination with you. Believe me, I would rather have a fascination with a giant slug, before I have a fascination with you."

"You have too been looking at me, constantly."

"I'm just a bit worried, but I never meant to stare. I just can't help but worry if you're going to hurt yourself again."

"Malfoy, not that it's any of your business, but that shouldn't be of any concern to you. You have no idea what I'm going through and I'd appreciate it if you stop pretending like you know everything in my life."

"Hermione I might not know what is going on in your life, but don't stand there and say I have no idea how you feel." Malfoy suddenly found himself shouting, he wasn't sure when he started, but he could not stop. His anger overpowered all other thoughts and concerns at the present moment. "I KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LOOK AT YOURSELF AND FEEL LIKE A PIECE OF CRAP. I KNOW WHAT ITS LIKE TO WANT TO TAKE A SHARP BLADE AND CUT YOURSELF ALL OVER UNTIL YOU CANT FEEL ANYTHING ANYMORE. DON'T ASSUME THAT BECAUSE MY PARENTS ARE WEALTHY, THAT I LIVE THIS PROBLEM-FREE LIFE. DON'T ASSUME ANYTHING ABOUT ME ANYMORE BECAUSE ITS YOU THAT HAS NO IDEA HOW I FEEL."

Hermione just stood there speechless. She was at a loss for all words. She had no idea that Malfoy was this complex. She knew he was human deep down, even if he didn't act like it, but this sudden burst of suppressed emotion surprised Hermione beyond anything before. Malfoy just stood there glaring at her as if daring her to make a comment about his situation. He wanted her to know that she wasn't alone with what she was doing or feeling, but he never expected for his feelings to come flooding out like that.

Suddenly realizing what he just said, he turned around and ran up the staircases leading to his dormitory. Such emotions filled his thoughts that he just wanted to climb into bed and die, to just crawl into a tight ball and die.

Hermione, in the meanwhile, had become overcome with so many different feelings of sorrow, hatred, anger, sadness, and regret while Malfoy made his speech that the sight of Malfoy fleeing the room, caused her to breakdown and cry hysterically. She wanted all of this to stop. She just wanted to be the same old know-it-all Hermione, but she knew she would never be the same.

Hermione just sat on the couch in the head boy and girl's common room, rocking back and forth. The emotions filled her with horrible thoughts that she couldn't control anymore. She couldn't stop the thoughts from evolving in her mind and soon it became more than she could stand. She wanted to stop the pain and stop the hurt. She wanted to feel nothing more. Deciding to go back to the only thing that made her feel whole; the only thing that took away her pain and fears, she pulled out a pocket knife that she kept in her robes at all times. Slitting her wrist again was the only thing that would calm her. It was the only thing that would stop these persistent thoughts from controlling her mind and eating away at her consciousness.

The pocketknife was small, but sharp enough to do damage on her thin arms. She picked it up and looked at the silver blade. _Yes, this'll have to do, _she thought. Pulling the small knife up to her arm she ran the silver, cold blade over her right wrist this time. Like last time, the gash wasn't deep, but the same amount of blood came out and flowed down her arm. She could smell the metallic, iron-like smell from the blood. The scarlet blood calmed her as she watched it flowing down her arms and onto her lap, finally ending on the brilliantly carpeted floor. Maybe it was the flowing motion of the blood, or the way the blood stained her skin a deep red, but something about the blood streaming down took all of her anger and hatred and regret away. She slumped back on the couch and closed her bloodshot eyes. Hermione hated this. She hated how miserable her life had become. She hated how she had to refer to pity to feel better. She didn't want to die, but she did want a way to forget about her pain and her sadness. Unfortunately, the only way she could think off was to physically destruct her body in ways unimaginable.


End file.
